Fire coursed through his body.

A howl of agony rose from his lips as his body twitched and shuddered, trying to break free from the energy that enveloped him.

Even through the agony he could feel the tearing of skin as his writhing limbs pulled against their bonds.

Then as suddenly as the pain began it stopped, his body dragging in great gulps of air as he tried to control his pounding heart.

He had barely begun to catch a breath, his pulse beating loud in his ears, when he was gripped by a massive hand and pulled upright.

Cracking open an eyelid, he nearly groaned as he caught sight of his teammates.

"You have finally decided to rejoin us, I see."

He ignored the gloating voice and his aching knees, concentrating instead on his two friends.

They didn't look very good, and that was the understatement of the century. It seemed as if Ra's buddies had had a little fun while he was catnapping.

Teal'c was worse off, but Carter wasn't far behind him. They looked like poster children for Amnesty International.

Bruised and bloody, their clothes showing more skin than they covered, Jack swore that it was only the guards' support that held them upright.

The area around Teal'c's eyes was a mass of swollen flesh and Jack wondered if he could see out of them at all.

Carter's hair was caked with blood and what looked suspiciously like the remains of a pot of stew.

He caught her eyes and she smiled—a crooked and pain-filled grimace.

"I wasn't hungry."

Jack returned the gesture, his eyes communicating far more than words ever could, words between friends and warriors.

"Silence!"

The shout echoed across the large space and Jack noticed Carter's immediate response. She quickly looked down.

The fire that had briefly flashed in her eyes had vanished.

Crap.

What had they done to them?

"So, this is fun. The gang's all here. Time for a nice board game, I think. What do you say, Teal'c?"

He waited for a response—something.

Nothing came.

A pit of worry began to churn in his stomach. What the hell had happened?

How long had he been out? It couldn't have been that long, surely.

Slowly Teal'c raised his head, the struggle to keep his eyes open obvious

"I would enjoy a game of chess, O'Neill, however I fear I would leave the game incomplete."

One large hand groped at the edge of Teal'c's robe, pulling it aside. Jack bit back a groan at the gaping hole where once a symbiote had nested.

"We have taken back what was ours."

Jack remembered how hard it had been for Teal'c to take on another symbiote just to survive, but he'd agreed.

And now that had been taken away along with any chance for his future. Without the Tretonin or the symbiote pouch, Teal'c would not survive the day.

Teal'c was dead. There was no going back from this, no turning the page to find a miraculous rescue. He was one more statistic in the bloody toll the Goa'uld had taken.

Through gritted teeth Jack growled his reply. "Why do you even care? You have plenty more where that one came from."

There was a pause, as if Ra was considering his words, then the reply came in the sneering, soulless voice of the symbiote.

"Because I can. Because it pains you."

"Why should you care what pains me? Surely I'm just a grain of sand to be crushed under your foot like all the rest."

"I think you are much more than that. You vie for power, my power. You've turned my people against me. They have begun to question their God."

Ra rose, gripping his robes and moving them aside as he walked across the room, stopping too close, forcing Jack to arch his back to look up at him, tugging on the chains and shackles that bound him. His body was already protesting the position it had found itself in—arms chained in front, the metal bar threaded behind his back and resting in the space formed by his bent elbows. The collar clinched a little too tight around his neck only held everything together, the attached chains fastened to the bar, every movement uncomfortable.

"You puzzle me. Your speech and that of the female is strange. Where do you come from? Did Apophis send you? Does he hope to undermine my rule with such feeble warriors?"

"A guy gets bashed over the head and you think he's feeble. I hate to tell you Ra, old buddy, but you should take a look at your troops. They're a bunch of girls. I'm surprised you've lasted this long against any other System Lord. So, how many do you have barking at your backdoor? Two? Three? More?"

"You dare speak in this manner! I am your God."

"False god last time I checked since I know for a fact that you have some kind of reptilian action happening on that brain stem of yours." Even chained as he was, his hands still gestured, the metal clinking as he moved. "It's a shame actually. Perfectly good waste of a human life."

A growl of rage rumbled from Ra's chest and his hand shot out.

A single gesture. A simple motion.

And with the click and hiss of a staff weapon Teal'c was gone.

Jack choked back his smart remark, his own rage matching Ra's as his helplessness washed over him. There was nothing he could have done to stop Teal'c's death. He just managed to stop his friend's suffering. And that was something, wasn't it?

xoxoxoxoxoxo

Carter hadn't moved from where she had been thrown, half turned, her face hidden, hunched against the far wall of the throne room, her short gasps agonizingly labored. Jack couldn't reach her. Their captors had left him as he'd found himself when he awoke, manacled to a pole across his shoulders, his arms locked into place and, as if that wasn't enough, they'd snapped thick anklets of metal around his feet, leaving him tethered to the wall like an animal.

He had tried talking to Carter, but all he received in response were muttered words. It had taken some effort to make them out, but finally he'd understood.

"Sorry."

Over and over again she murmured the single word. Over and over.

Jack didn't pretend not to understand. He'd answered her.

It wasn't her fault. She had been right—they needed to find the ZPM. The Wraith could be knocking on Earth's doorstep, salivating at the new rich feeding ground, if they weren't stopped, and to stop them the SGC needed ready access to the Pegasus Galaxy. They had been right to take the chance.

As for keeping a low profile in the hope of not changing the timeline—well, they had all suffered for Jack's inability to do that.

No, it hadn't been Carter's fault.

Jack knew exactly where the fault should fall.

That was one thing about being in charge, being the leader: it all ended with him. He'd learned that through the years as he'd climbed the Air Force ladder, as he continued to gain more responsibility, as more and more lives relied on his ability to make the right decision.

He'd lived with all of the decisions he'd made—both good and bad, right and wrong—just like he'd stand by everything he'd done over the course of the past few months, ever since they were stranded in this god-forsaken history lesson.

He tried to move a little to stretch his aching muscles, but every movement just aggravated something else.

He wished he could see outside. It would give him an indication of how much time had passed since they've been captured. But like all good paranoid Goa'ulds, their private chambers were deep inside a fortress.

They'd made plans on how they'd eventually take this room, strategizing on what needed to be done to secure it and kill the Goa'uld inside. While becoming Ra's prisoner was discussed, it was never considered a viable option.

Jack had to agree even more strongly now that he was here.

He raised his head as much as possible, given the awkward position it was in, and peered around. The torches on the walls barely illuminated the vast area and he pondered, not for the first time, what it was with snakes and naked flames. They had artificial lighting; he'd seen it on their ships and in their palaces, so why go with the smoky, murky look? The gloom and the lack of spectators seemed to indicate it was night. So they'd been there, what—about fourteen hours, at a guess. He could barely remember a tenth of it.

Even the guards were few in number, apparently not worried about the resistance of two humans.

And glancing at Carter's unmoving form he couldn't blame them.

He licked his lips, trying not to even think of water. But what he wouldn't give for just a tiny sip from the jug next to Ra's throne.

He shifted a little, pain flaring from his abused knees, only to have the end of a staff weapon prod him in the side—a firm reminder that they were not alone. The two Jaffa guarding them didn't look any more pleased at being there than he was, both making it very obvious that any change in his position kneeling on the cold, hard stone floor would be swiftly brought to a halt.

Jack sighed, having hours ago given up the notion of trying to make conversation. The ridiculous thing was—he was bored. You'd think, given the circumstances, that he'd have plenty to occupy his mind, but no, he was bored.

A harsh cough interrupted his train of thought, dragging his attention to the body in the corner of the room. Carter had curled up on herself, cradling her middle, agony etched into the lines of her face and through her entire frame. Whatever they'd done to her hadn't made much of a mark on the outside, but Jack knew there was something wrong, terribly wrong.

The single trail of blood down her chin just confirmed his assumption.

Internal injuries. Bad ones if he'd had to guess.

She needed help, and fast. There had to be a sarcophagus around here somewhere—no self respecting Goa'uld would travel without one. If he could put Carter in it…And Teal'c—Teal'c could be revived.

He slumped in his chains.

The darkly charred mark on the floor was all that remained of his warrior friend.

There would be no revival for Teal'c, no return from the dead.

God! The realization finally hit. Teal'c was gone.

They'd disposed of his body like so much trash—three zat blasts and there was nothing left of one of the finest men Jack had ever met. Even Ra's words, "Get this garbage out of my throne room," showed the utter distain the Goa'uld had for life, for good men.

Three short blasts that took away both the leader of the Free Jaffa and one of the few people Jack could truly call a friend.

A commotion in the hallway, however, forced him to glance toward the door, the guards in the room visibly straightening.

Two Jaffa entered first, taking up positions on either side of the door, their backs ramrod straight as if someone had shoved something up their ass. With the Goa'uld anything was possible, Jack knew, but he pushed his meandering thoughts to the side as other warriors entered dragging a villager with them—a familiar face, a young boy they'd befriended. One of the boys he'd taken under his wing when he'd shown interest in their plans.

Apparently, teaching them to hide was something he'd have to work on with them when he got out of here.

When, not if.

They'd get out of this. He had to think that way or else Ra had already won.

The boy was barely sixteen, just a tall, lanky kid excited by the prospect of rebelling. They'd been careful not to give away too much to him, not wanting to put him in any danger. Clearly a futile hope.

Jack saw the moment the kid spotted him, his face almost collapsing in an expression of terror.

He was so young, so vulnerable—exactly the sort of victim the Goa'uld loved most.

He would have lived a full life, albeit one as a slave to a false god. But now...Jack didn't hold out much hope. Jack knew, as his heart sunk into his missing boots, why the snakes had invited the kid to this little soiree.

A rustle of armor and the single shout of "kree" pulled Jack's attention from the kid.

The heavy gold curtains behind the throne parted, looking for all the world like the beginning of a cheaply staged school drama production. Except the extras that appeared would have had the PTA up in arms.

Four scantily clad women undulated forward and Jack couldn't help his disbelieving cry of "Oh, come on!" escaping even though the expected blow to his back followed it closely.

The women—and he used that term loosely—settled around the throne, two per side, their faces turned to their god as he glided forward, carefully sitting on his throne, his hands caressing the arms of the chair.

With a single glance, Ra took in the terrified boy cowering before him, his face clearly showing his distain, his contempt. "Where did you find this one?"

"He was in the hole where we found the others, my Lord." The gold tattoo clearly designated the speaker as Ra's First Prime.

"With the three?"

"No, My Lord. I sent guards to watch in case some of their supporters returned. This is what we caught."

Damn! The kid must have gone back after they'd been captured, maybe to try and retrieve the plans they'd left hidden there.

"Was he the only one?"

"No, my Lord. We have discovered others as well. They are being transported to this chamber for questioning as you requested."

Others? What were these kids thinking? They had established SOP for events like this.

Jack's thoughts froze for a moment, Daniel's face flashing across his vision. No—Daniel couldn't have been captured. There hadn't been time for him to get there. He probably didn't even know what had happened yet.

"Bring him forward" One long finger tipped with pointed nails beckoned. Moments later the boy was on his knees at Ra's feet, his head bowed, all thoughts of rebellion clearly gone and replaced by abject horror.

"You use children to fight?"

Jack barely concealed his start of surprise as the Goa'uld addressed him directly for the first time in hours.

"I've never seen him before. Don't know him."

"You expect me to believe that?"

"I don't care what you belief—it's the truth. Anyway, you have no compunction with using children."

Jack saw Ra's eyes widen from across the room. Apparently that little tidbit wasn't common knowledge—yet.

Ra turned his attention to the boy, dismissing Jack without a thought. "Why do you hate me so? Has this man poisoned you to me? Have I not given you life? "

The boy straightened, his head coming up. "You did not give me life. You are no god!"

Jack felt a flush of pride, trying to keep his face impassive. But the boy's fierce reply told Ra all he needed to know.

"Tell me what you know of these strangers, child, and I will allow you to die quickly."

"I know nothing."

"I told you before—I don't know him!"

Their answers crashed together and Jack's hurried words almost drowned out the boy's defiant reply. Jack ignored the guards' attempts to quiet him, struggling halfway to his feet before being pushed back down. He knew he shouldn't have reacted the moment Ra caught his eye, the speculation and pleasure plain.

He schooled his face back into an impassive mask.

"Then you will not care what happens to him?"

"Of course I care, you bastard. I'm not an unfeeling monster like you."

"And there is your weakness," Ra said, rising from his throne and stepping off the dais, his steps moving him closer to Jack. "Tell me where you come from. Tell me which of the System Lords you call master."

"I bend my knee to no one."

"Impossible!"

"The Tau'ri are stronger than you know and will be your undoing. Just wait and see."

"Tau'ri?"

Shit! He was slipping, his injuries and fatigue causing him to give too much away.

A low moan from the corner reminded him of exactly what was at stake here.

The very future of his own planet.

"General?"

Jack tried to ignore the pained cry, his eyes filtering briefly to Carter's sluggishly moving form.

"General?" Ra's voice took on a deadly quality, the single word holding thousands of questions and answers.

Another slip.

"Bring the woman."

Jack shut his eyes at the sight as Carter struggled for breath, held tightly between two massive Jaffa.

Ra's hand reached out, lightly grasping the Colonel's chin ignoring the trickle of blood that flowed from the corner of her lips. "What sort of title is 'General'? Tell me and I will spare your life."

Jack didn't think Carter could have answered if she had wanted to. Her head lolled loosely on her shoulders as another wet cough wracked her body.

Jack closed his eyes again, unable to watch, his senses stretching out, listening for that fateful sound of the igniting staff weapon that would end Carter's life.

But it didn't come.

Instead a quiet thump assaulted his ears and his eyes opened, searching the room when he found the space beside the boy empty.

Two guards strode from the back of the room, their bodies moving to reveal the crumpled remains of the Colonel, her left arm at an unnatural angle.

The smooth voice of the Goa'uld whispering in his ear nearly made him jump out of his skin. "She was a feisty one, once, wasn't she? She can be again, you know. I am a god. I have the power of life in my hands."

Jack's heart dropped as the pieces finally came together, only to be replaced by a burning rage.

For a second he wanted to take the offer. Just for a second. Then the temptation was replaced by reality. Ra could bring Carter back, but for what? To use her again and again as a pawn in his game.

Jack couldn't allow that. He wouldn't.

He shook his head, gritting his teeth against the urge to tell the snake exactly what he knew of their powers—that they were nothing more than thieves, using other races technology for their own ends.

"It's your choice. I grant you a favor. I will allow you to also hold the power of life and death in your hands. Everything that happens here is because of you. Remember that. And her death will not be quick like the Jaffa's. Tell me what I wish to know and you can have her back."

Jack steadfastly kept his eyes on the god wantabe in front of him, his contempt almost a palatable taste in his mouth.

"Very well," Ra said turning aside. "Kill the boy and bring in the next one."

No! Inside his own head Jack screamed. It took all his will power to stay upright, unemotional.

"Jack!"

The kid's desperate cry for help, cut off abruptly by the hum of two quick zat blasts, ate away a little more of what was left of Jack's soul.

"Jack?"

There was no need to hide it. "It's my name. General Jack O'Neill if you must know."

"An unusual name. One I have not heard before."

"What can I say—my parents were ahead of their time."

"So, you lied to me. You knew him."

Jack grimaced caught between a rock and a hard place. "Yes, I knew him. Seen him in the village. He was just a boy."

"Perhaps you know these other boys as well."

A quick gesture of Ra's hand and several guards entered, a handful of Egyptian youths between them, forced to kneel before Ra's throne, their trembling forms breaking Jack's heart.

And it didn't stop. The parade of villagers continued for hours on end, the questioning, the threats, the deaths.

There was nothing he could do.

He was totally helpless.

Some tried to give the Goa'uld what he wanted. Some answered the questions.

But they really didn't know anything. The ones that did stayed silent.

Thankfully, Daniel was nowhere to be seen among them.

Eventually even Ra began to tire of the game

Jack wavered on his knees, his strength finally beginning to give out after so many hours without sleep, food or water. He almost envied Carter her corner.

As the sound of the last zat filled the room, Ra rose from his throne, striding over to where Jack kneeled, his hand grasping Jack's chin, tilting it upward at an awkward angle.

"Enough. I ask you one last time. Who are you, truly, and who else is involved in your scheme?"

Jack tightened his jaw, refusing to utter a single word, his eyes coldly holding Ra's gaze.

Jack couldn't even shake his head, his weakened body betraying him as he slumped forward.

Ra turned on his heel, his robe striking Jack's face as he strode off to the door. Jack watched him as he paused at the door, Ra's eyes straying to Carter's body, her chest moving slowly with each breath.

"Remove this refuse. Bring the human to me when you are done."

And Ra was gone.

Struggling against his bonds, Jack tried to protest, tried to call him back, but his voice wouldn't carry, barely whispering when he wanted to shout.

"No! Don't!"

"For God's sake, don't"

The Jaffa moved efficiently, cleaning the floor, removing the dead from the center of the room with three quick zat blasts.

A single warrior approached Carter, pulling her roughly, turning her on her back.

"Stop! Please stop!"

Words in Goa'uld passed over his head, halting the Jaffa.

Turning Jack caught the eyes of the First Prime, a silent 'thank you' hovering in the air before him—until the triple sound of zat fire filled the room.

He twisted.

His eyes desperately searching for what he couldn't see.

She couldn't be gone. Her life couldn't have been extinguished that easily.

He slumped forward, the grief and the pain finally enveloping his senses.

As he faded into unconsciousness, General Jack O'Neill finally wept. Two tears rolling sluggishly down his cheeks, one for each of his friends.